Cato and Clove: Lovers and Killers
by ZamForever
Summary: Sorry i haven't been posting any more! I'm not going to stop writing though, I promise. Please keep reviewing it cause it gives me motivation to keep writing. xx
1. Chapter 1

Cato goes straight to his room before I can say anything to him. I'm not even sure what to say, so I slip in my room as well. Shutting the door and looking around at my surroundings, there's a huge luxurious looking bed; and everything anyone would ever want in a bedroom. If I wasn't about to get sent off to the arena in a few days, I might've enjoyed staying here.

Walking into the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, a loose fitting dress that doesn't help my small figure look any better. I strip it off and throw on a tank-top and sweatpants. I take a knife out of the dress pocket on the floor, and lay down on the bed, tracing my fingertips with the end of the blade. Not enough to cut in the skin, I'm just bored. And confused. And hopeless about all of this. The list can go on and on.

I end up staring at the scars on my wrists and arms, the scars my father gave me. Whenever I refused to go to the training academy, he'd make a new mark on my skin. They're less noticeable now, ever since I started training regularly at the academy. But the scars are still visible, permanent reminders of all the pain I felt after my mother's death, the things my father did to me out of grief for her death. He wanted me to win the Games, to bring him riches and fame to our family. Nothing else matters to him.

One day, I stood up to my dad and told him I wasn't going to train. But it was pretty pathetic, cause all he had to do was shove me up against the wall and cut me again. That time he also slashed my neck, which started bleeding badly, and I ran outside in the pouring rain to get away from him. It was raining hard, and I was already soaking wet by the time I got to an old tree, which I slumped down against; my tears adding to the cold wet feeling.

I saw a boy walking out of the academy and I remembered his name from school; Cato. His body was toned and fit even at his young age. He was 13; 2 years older than me, but he looked older than that. He must've seen me, because he came jogging over to where I was. "What's the matter, shorty?", he said cockily while flipping his hair aside which was sticking down on his head as a result of the rain.

I glared at him and told him to go away, but I doubt he could have heard me because of the muffled crying sounds I was making. Instead of leaving me there, he sat down next to me and grabbed my wrists, looking at them with wide eyes. "Who did this to you?", he asked concerned. "My father...", I said, sniffling. "He also did this-", I showed him the cut on my neck, which was still gushing blood.

"Why'd you let him?"

"What do you mean..! I can't do anything to stop him, I'm so...", I started making the crying sounds again and he put his hand over mine, maybe trying to calm me down. "Sure you can. Ever been to the academy?"

And that was how I started my training. Cato took me there the next day, and tried to get the trainers to let me in. At first they wouldn't, they said I was too young and small. I was 11 at the time, and somehow Cato convinced them to let me atleast try. Cato was popular at school, everyone already knew his name; he was one of the best in the academy, and at school. The girls loved him and the guys wanted to be him. I started throwing knives, and got good. Everyone knew I never missed a target.

Those memories all come back to me and I put my knife down. My only friend is going in the arena with me. Sure, he had plenty of friends; girls he went through quickly. I must mean nothing to him after all, since he volunteered after I got reaped. So he could win. Trying hard to ignore the memories of him comforting me when I was sad and broken, helping me train, being my friend. A good one, too. We helped each other get better, and I felt whole when I was with him. Frustrated, I get under the covers and try to figure out what's going to happen in the weeks to come.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up to the loud sound of District 2's escort, Junibra, banging on the door. "Come on! Time for dinner!" I can hear the impatience in her annoying voice, and she continues to talk until I get up and shout back at her, "Alright, I'm coming!", I curse under my breath and yank the door open, to see her with jet black hair in curly ringlets, that is so black it must be a wig. Her skin isn't exactly tan, it's more of a bright orange. _Hideous, _I think. She rushes me out of the room and hurries down the hallway, while I fix my long ponytail that is now messed up, as I try to put it back in place without a brush. Junibra runs around, apparently looking for our mentors who are supposed to be at the table already.

I see Cato at the table and I sit as far away from him as I can. He's already digging into the food, not checking his manners at all. Rolling my eyes at him, I eat some of the food that is in front of me. _Holy crap, this is good. _The kids in District 2 get fed, but the ones who train at the academy are all on diets, mostly power and health food. Nothing that tastes as good as this Capital stuff.

I've been so focused on eating, I almost miss our mentors coming in to sit with us. Brutus and Enobaria. Very common names at the academy, everyone knows about them. How could they not? Enobaria won her Games by ripping out tributes throats' with her teeth. After she won, she got her teeth altered by the Capital, and now she has what looks like two golden fangs. Brutus is huge, even bigger than Cato, despite how old he is. He still has the body he had in the arena, but even bigger. He's just scary looking. By the way they walk in, it looks as if they had something going on that got interrupted. Not like its much of a secret what they were doing, but Junibra walks in, wiping her forehead and looking distressed while Brutus and Enobaria sit down next to each other.

Doesn't surprise me, Enobaria dresses in tight black pants and an over revealing top that Brutus keeps looking at while she sits down, and then they turn to look at me and Cato. "So, who do we have here?", Enobaria asks; directing the question to Cato.

"Cato", he says while sitting up a bit, and improving his posture.

"I'm Clove..", I can't help but notice how both of our mentors are only paying attention to Cato at the moment. Just because I don't look like much, I could kill him if I wanted to. Instead of acknowledging me, they both just look him up and down, and then nod to each other. I clear my throat, and they finally look at me.

"Well, looks like we've got another victor this year," says Brutus, clearly not talking about me.

"Which one of us?", I hear Cato ask and Brutus bursts out laughing rudely. I glare at him and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cato does the same.

Enobaria smacks Brutus's arm and looks at me. "How long have you trained for?"

"Four years; since I was eleven."

"Good, good. Well-" Suddenly the train goes dark. "We're in the Capital now, come on, get up." District 2 is one of the closest districts to the Capital, so it doesn't take much time at all to get there. I stand up and walk to the window and Cato looks over my shoulder. At first it stays dark and then we get out of the tunnel, and are simply astounded by the beauty of the Capital. Bright blue sky, buildings made of glass, tall skyscrapers that seem to never end, and colorful people walking around quickly, seeing the District 2 train. Cato automatically starts waving and putting on that dazzling smile of his. I quickly do the same, but most of the attention is going towards him; as usual. I bet I look like a midget next to him.

District 2 is typically the favorite among the Capital citizens, so I can imagine sponsors already lining up to sponsor us in the Games. Then the realization hits me, that this is happening. I was supposed to volunteer next year, for the Quarter Quell. Cato was supposed to win this year. We're both going in the arena together. I know I had time to think about this earlier today, but I just wasn't thinking about what it really means for me.

We go back to the table afterwards and finish dinner, quietly discussing strategy. But I'm not paying attention. They attempt to get me in the conversation, but the only thing I really tell them about is my knife throwing. Later, we go to the TV room to watch the recap of the Reapings. I sit down on the couch and Cato sits next to me, as I shoot him a glare. He must know why I'm acting like this, but his face looks confused and a little hurt. _Whatever_, I think. This is all his fault anyways.

Shaking my head, I turn my gaze to the television broadcast, just as I see a stupid looking blonde chick from District 1 volunteer. As she moves her hips walking up to the stage and attempts to look sexy, I just glare at the TV and Cato who is practically drooling over her. Even Brutus starts gawking a bit, and Enobaria slaps him hard across the face, and moves away. _Pffft, _he deserved it. Anyways, the blonde chick- Glimmer- is her name, her district partner is as tall as Cato, but not nearly as muscular, and has light brown hair. He looks okay, we'll probably end up teaming up with him. I hope we don't team up with Glimmer, though.

The rest of the tributes this year look pretty hopeless as allies, except maybe the District 4 girl. But her district partner is a tiny little boy, with curly poofy hair that makes me laugh out loud unintentionally. Mostly I'm just laughing at what the competition is this year. I'd have no problem killing any of these people. But then I see the huge boy -Thresh- from District 11. I wonder how old he is, the oldest age to be eligible for the Reaping is 18 years old, but he looks like he could be in his twenties even. Leaning back into the couch, thinking to myself why this bothers me. Cato would kill him. He'd kill him if I couldn't first.

I've been so lost in thought that I didn't notice Cato's hand just barely touching my waist, we were already sitting fairly close to each other and no one seems to notice where his hand went. It relaxes me a bit, just like when he put his hand over mine the day before he took me to training. When the District 11 recap is over, I push Cato's hand away slightly, and I was about to whisper something to him before our heads turn back to the TV, hearing a desperate scream from a small brunette girl volunteering for a little blonde girl who turns out to be her sister. District 12? They never have volunteers. In fact, the last victor they had must've been at least 25 years ago. Cato leans forward, watching closely. I take a closer look at the girl too, and I can tell she's trying to appear confident and strong, but she has fear in her eyes that would be impossible to miss.

The broadcast is over and we all just stay there for a while, before Junibra breaks the silence. "So, what do you think of the tributes this year, sweeties?"

_Sweeties? _God, she's so annoying. "I think we should allie with District 1. No reason not to, I don't think.", says Cato, folding his arms. Probably just wanting to get in the District 1 girls' pants. "Oh, yes. I'm sure Glitter would make an excellent ally. You two would be great friends."

"What's that supposed to mean?", he's moved away from me a bit, and is stretching his arms behind his back.

"It means, that you and her seem a lot alike. Blonde, stupid, uh... you think you're better than everyone else."

"Who in here is better than me, Clover?" he's smirking, and it only makes me even more mad.

I snarl at him, nearly spitting out words, "_I told you not to call me that!"_

"What, it's your nickname. Remember?" The smirk drops from his face and his tone turns serious, "But I didn't think you would, cause you've obviously forgotten a lot of things recently."

He storms off in the direction of his room, and I sit there, staring at the ground until I look up and see Brutus, Enobaria, and Junibra all staring at me. I mutter before going after Cato, "We'll ally with One..."


	3. Chapter 3

I hurry quickly to where Cato went, wanting an explanation from him. I start calling his name before I see him, "Cato, what are y-", I'm cut off when he grabs my arm, pulling me to my room. Yanking my arm away after he shuts the door, I shout; then realize we don't want anyone to come and ask us what's going on, when I don't even know myself. "What the hell is going on with you? Get out of my room!"

"Why? You don't want to talk?", he says. What is there to talk about? I can't do this...

"No, I don't want to talk to you."

"Why not? I thought we were friends. Weren't we?" He keeps eyeing my arms, which are shaking so I fold them over my chest, clenching my fists.

"Yeah, well.. I think it's pretty pointless you know, to keep that up. You wanted in the Games this year. You just couldn't wait any longer." Trying to hide my face from him, I go into the bathroom and pick up my dress that was still on the floor.

"I don't think either of us wanted this." I can feel him still looking at me, not moving away.

"You know, you are confusing the hell out of me right now...", I mutter, laying my dress on the sink.

"Yeah, I know. I'll probably just get worse from now on."

"Is that even possible?"

"Am I really that bad, Clover?",rolling my eyes when he says my nickname again, I whirl back around to glare at him smirking at me.

"Guess we're back to the same place again, huh?"

"Guess so." His eyes linger on me a few more seconds as if he had something else to say, before turning and walking back to his own room.

_Thanks for nothing, _I think_. _I sigh and slam the door shut after he leaves, and lay on the bed face down. Tomorrow is the Tribute Parade, but all I want to do is stay right here. No, all I want is to be back at home with Cato. Shit, I need to stop thinking like that. Its pointless to have those thoughts, it's too late for anything else. I would like to get my hands on some knives in the training center, though. Throwing knives and training has been something I've done for years. I need it. Especially right now, when I'm angry and in an extremely pissy mood. I've always had Cato to vent to, but at this moment he's my problem. I never had anyone except him to talk to.

He basically said that things are going to get even worse than they are right now. I can't imagine how things could get any worse.

_"Don't fucking touch me!", _I shout at my prep team, who are currently hovered over me with little metal torture devices in their hands. "Clov-"

"Its _Clove. _Not that hard to pronounce you idiot." They are driving me insane. And I already was before. One who's name I don't know, looks like she's about to cry, and when she speaks her voice wavers. "W-we're sorry b-but we have to do this. W-we need to get you ready for the.. tribute parade.." The other one joins in, hoping to calm me down. "When people see how beautiful you look after this, you'll get tons of sponsors!" "Y-yes! That's right. No one will be able to resist y-"

"Alright, fine! Go ahead...",I lean back again and close my eyes while gripping the edge of the bed. They continue to rip out my eyebrow hairs, with every movement they make I wince and get scolded again. I just hope when they're done with me I don't look like one of them. They are terrifying with their bright colored faces and.. well, everything about them is bright. Except their minds, it's like they are 5 year olds, who were given a job to make me miserable. Not that I wasn't before. I open my eyes when they stop plucking, and they look down at me. "Clove, dear. What are these?", they lift up my wrists, frowning.

"My wrists.", I'm about to murder someone, I swear.

"Yes, but you have, uh...", the one who's been asking the questions turns around, walking in a closet looking for something.

"These?", I ask, pointing to a line on my arm.

"Y-yes. What are they from?"

"Knives. Lots of different ones."

"...No, that's not what I meant.."

The one who went in the closet comes back out with a tube of something in his hand. "We can get rid of them very easily with the Capitol magic! Alright?", the man forces a smile and begins to rub some of it on my arm. I smack his hand away, flinging myself onto him and he crashes to the floor, knocking over a cart stacked high with bottles. All is mayhem as I grab a random sharp object off the floor, the man became completely defenseless when I locked him in this position, his arms twisted uncomfortably behind his back and my knees pressing his shoulders down. He looks as if he's about to have a mental break down and so do I. I haven't gotten this mad since I nearly killed a kid in the training center when he kept on calling me short. Stupid, I know. But people underestimate me and I've just about had it.

"Don't _fucking_ touch me, maybe I like these!", I say in his face, my eyes probably reflect the look in his eyes, crazy. "You don't like scars, huh? Well you're about to get some. How bout this?"

Pressing whatever sharp object I found on the ground against his arm, I sure am scaring the hell out of him. "I- I was just putting some- a- a moisturizer! To.. to help y-your skin!" He's shaking and sweating like crazy as blood starts pouring out of the cut I've just made. The rest of my prep team has ran out of the room screaming for peacekeepers. I my whip my head around to see what's going on behind me and a few seconds later I'm yanked off of him by a peacekeeper. I don't resist; I wasn't really going to kill him. I was just pissed and wanted to scare him. Which I see I did. He's carried off on a stretcher. I laugh to myself. I barely even broke his skin,

I'm the typical District 2 tribute, apparently. I have a bad temper, thing for knives and sharp things, I'm vicious, and a killer. This is what my stylist tells me after the "incident" today. She says I'm more than that, though. I bring something else to it all, and she doesn't know just what it is yet. I'm alright with that; I actually like my stylist. She knows just what I'm capable of. She doesn't underestimate me and she puts all of this into my costume for the tribute parade. Its a golden plated metal dress with carved designs in it- I'm not sure if its really a dress- but it covers my neck and leaves my arms fully exposed, stopping above my knees. Our district is known for its stonework, and my costume definitely reflects that well. My hair is in an elegant ponytail, going through my headdress that matches what covers my body. This is all probably the most uncomfortable thing I've worn in my entire life. The material only adds to that. But it doesn't make me look girly or cute, it makes me look powerful. Intimidating. Something I'm sure none of the other tributes will look except for me and Cato.


End file.
